Breathing On Luna
by Soncnica
Summary: Space!AU, 2nd in the 'burning moons!verse'. Sam got hit by the ice waters of Ganymede and Dean needed to get him to Luna fast, or else Sam would turn into an ice statue.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: Well it all started with a prompt from deirdre_c over on LiveJournal about Dean getting a blaster wound - story is called The Moons Are Burning and you can find it on my list of stories - and I have no idea how, but now it's a 'verse, because I can't stop writing about the boys in space. Oh boy ... but darn it, if it's not fun! LOL

**Warnings:** language, space, sci-fi, violence, kinda dark(ish), h/c, lots of made up stuff

I own nothing, all is fiction and I am sorry for all grammar/spelling mistakes. Story is complete in 3 parts.

* * *

Space hid many things, but the Impala wasn't one of 'em. She loved being noticed, loved being seen because she knew that what was inside of her, the precious cargo she was carrying, could bring salvation or destruction and she loved that everyone knew that.

Flying through space? It was what she had been designed for, made for, constructed for, told to do by engineers and … by John Winchester so many years ago when he spotted her on Luna's vast docking pier. She remembered that day; a man with one child wrapped around his leg, little hands holding tightly to the man's pants and a baby that he held, pressing him to his chest, rubbing a big, strong hand up and down the baby's back, shushing him.

She fell in love and so did he.

"You're gonna do just fine, baby. Gonna take care of my kid's too, aren'tcha, sweetheart?"

She knew she would. Forever.

-:-

They had one rule, one rule among many that their father had all but tattooed into their brains …

… forget about everything and everyone and protect your brother.

They tried, they tried so hard to follow other rules too, especially the 'save people, hunt down evil sons of bitches' but sometimes rule no. 1 overrode everything else.

Because in this vast, dirty and dark space, all they had was each other and if one of them died, the other one would follow soon.

It's why Dean was pushing the Impala as hard as he could, going beyond what she was capable of giving, being an old ship and all, but he needed her to give it all.

"Come on, baby. Don't fail me now. Come on, sweetie. You can do it. If not for me, then for Sam. Okay? I know you're still pissed about that whole low flight over Amalthea, I swear I'll never do that again, just come on! COME ON!"

She gurgled something that sounded like either indigestion problems he sometimes got after eating on Nereid or a 'you are forgiven'. It was hard to tell with a ship class Chevy, but he took what he got, which was a bit more speed. It's all he needed really; because they were so close and he was not gonna lose Sam today. Today was not a good day for his little brother to die.

"We need to get to Luna, baby." he whispered and pushed some glowing buttons on the console before him, adjusting light and air inflow, lowering shields – because those sons of bitches from Ganymede weren't following them anymore, because they were dead. Fucking assholes. Goddamnit.

Sam wheezed on the co-pilot seat next to him.

"Sam, we'll be there soon, 'kay? Just few more minutes, 'kay? You gotta hold on for me, man."

_Please, just hold on…_

"O-o-o-kay-kay … D-de-ean."

The way his brother barely got those two words out, tore something inside of Dean and he threatened every Deity in the lunar system that he would kill them all if his brother would die. And then he would die too and leave space unprotected and let scavengers and savages destroy the moons, destroy the system because he just wouldn't give a fuck anymore.

"'s okay, Sammy. 's okay, just breathe. Slow. Okay? Nice and slow, gonna be just fine."

He didn't want to look to his right; didn't want to see Sam struggling to breathe, all the veins standing out in his temples, his neck, his arms. Didn't want to see his legs twitching in spasms, his chest rising up and down in quick attempts to get some air into his all but frozen lungs. Didn't want to see his brother dying.

Because seeing all that would just make him want to turn his ship around and kill the fuckers all over again. Give them a more painful death than being pushed into the freezing waters of Ganymede and turn to ice in an instant. Because now they were ice sculptures; faces full of agony and arms trying to flee the waters … but eternal. They would forever float in the waters, ice statues.

He glanced at Sam then. They were brothers, family, same blood flowing through their veins and fucking hell if fear would ever stop him from looking after or at his little brother.

"Gonna be there real soon, Sammy."

His brother kept on struggling to breathe, hands grabbing for his chest first, trying to rip it apart to get some air it seemed, then gripping his pants and then … then he started to grab at Dean's arms, digging his bitten fingernails into Dean's forearms, drawing blood.

"Shit, Sam!"

"H-h-huuu-r-tsss."

"I know, man. I know. Just hold on, just a little longer. I can see Luna. We're almost there. Can you see it?"

He watched as Sam closed his eyes, tears streaming down his blue face, and then open them back up and concentrated on the view from the front window. Luna looked to Sam as if it was glowing, pulling him towards the surface … with each second that passed, he could see the craters and the highlands. And it was beautiful.

"I s-see."

Dean saw too. Luna. The home base of the United Moon's Federation. They had capable doctors there – hell, they treated his blaster wound and he came out just fine – were protected against all kinds of attacks, had engineers that would gladly look at his ship and do some modifications, and they had a place for them to sleep and for Sam to recover. Because he would not die. He wouldn't let his brother die.

"See it? Its right there little brother, just," he looked at a red number the console was blinking at him, "three more minutes and then it'll all be over."

He was talking more to comfort himself by this point, because Sam … he was looking all but ready to say goodbye to this shitty life.

"Sam?"

"'m-m-mm he-here."

"Good."

Good, although his brother looked and sounded like his strength was seeping out fast.

"Baby, go landing sequence L14, sharp right, docking pier 15, left side. Call medical. Urgent."

He trusted his ship; she got them safely off Ganymede, she got them here with all the power she got and then some, she saved their sorry asses more time that he could count and he knew, he knew in his bones and blood that she would take his order and do her best to get them safely to the Luna's surface.

She was a good ship. His father chose wisely.

-:-

He unclipped his seat belt, rotated his chair towards Sam and choked on his spit. Sam was blue. His brother was all blue. His face, his arms, his … skin everywhere was blue. He was all but frozen and he couldn't breathe properly and he was not gonna die.

"Sammy, we're here. She just needs to land, okay?"

Sam's nod was a jerk of his head, a twitch Dean didn't think Sam could even control. There were spasms taking control over Sam's whole body, jerking motions of his fingers and hands and arms and legs and feet and his chest and his back … his lips were trying to work around words, but nothing came out anymore, there were no words – Deities, but his brother couldn't speak anymore. All there was, were these little choking, whimpering, gasping noises and it was all too much.

Fucking creature traders. Why did they have to answer to Mr. Bobby's call again? Why, fuckin'…

Oh yeah, because it was who they were. Fighters, warriors, soldiers who went into these things to try and help, to save, to destroy evil. But space was so big, the United Moon's Federation had more than one hundred and eighty moons under its wing and sometimes it all felt like an endless job. Just a vicious circle of evil and good and evil and good.

There's no evil without good and no good without evil, their father used to say, before he put a blaster in their hands and told them to shot and kill and maim, but never let live. Monsters that hunted down animals, creatures or people (of Earth or other planets) to use as slaves or trade them for water, food or oxygen were to be killed. That was a lesson given to them by their father and they lived by it ever since. Good was worth fighting for.

"We have landed, Dean. Medics are awaiting."

The voice, if it could be called that, was robotic. No feelings there; no fear (for Sam), no love, no celebration that they made it, no happiness, no sadness. Nothing. But he, and Sam, both knew that the Impala had more love for them sometimes, than even their own father did.

"Hear that Sammy? Hear it? 'm gonna open the doors now, medics'll come, but I won't leave you, you hear me? Won't leave you…"

"Open the door, baby. Protocol 1256, medics on board."

He couldn't hear the doors opening , but knew the sound they made, a low _swisssh _sound that sometimes he loved to hear – whenever they were running to safety from being killed – and sometimes hated – like now, when there were people boarding the ship, _his_ ship, _their_ ship to take his brother away from him.

But he wouldn't leave him. Rule no. 2: never leave your brother alone.

Sure, these were the best doctors one could find in the Lunar system, and they would help his brother the best they could, and he could leave Sam with them and go get something to eat and drink and maybe get some sleep – he hadn't slept in thirty-eight hours and counting – but rule no.2 was as important as rule no.1.

Their father tried to teach them, tried to beat into their heads that they were all they had. They were everything they had in this emptiness, among all these aliens and people and creatures and all this evilness. They needed to keep each other alive no matter the cost, needed to keep themselves alive … until there was no other choice.

And needless to say, the UMF (United Moon's Federation) hadn't been all that open to those rules. They fought – with first their father and later with him and Sam – about loosening the rules a little, because surely the wellbeing of the moons population was more important than keeping his brother safe. They were talking about millions and millions and millions of people, versus one man. The greater good, and all that.

And all that got the UMF was its lead men with broken noses and ribs and concussions. Because no one, absolutely no one would ever say that to them – to John, to Dean or to Sam. Family came first, then came everyone else.

If it weren't for Mr. Bobby, Dean thought that his whole family would've been on the UMF's hit list.

But, and he still has no clue how it happened or what Mr. Bobby told the master minds of the UMF, they suddenly saw that it was far better for the Winchesters to work for them, rather than against them. And to keep their rules.

That man always understood that those rules were sacred, like the Holy Bible was to the people of Earth.

-:-

"Okay, man, they're here. 'm not leaving you, understand?"

Sam's head jerked sideways. He was so blue, his eyes bulging out, his face covered in tears and snot and it was like watching one of those little snotty fur-balls on Umbriel, when ice got stuck on their whiskers. But that was a cute sight, while this … seeing Sam like that was making Dean wanna throw up.

Sam's tears and snot?

Were frozen on his face.

* * *

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I think I'm having way too much fun writing this...LOL**

* * *

There were three doctors that came on the bridge; two young and one named Likoss, a guy Dean had the pleasure of meeting when he was healing from his blaster wound a few months ago. One could easily see he was from Titan; his hair was short, white spikes that were pointing in all directions, his lips thin, dark blue and his skin light blue. He almost looked like Sam right then. But he was a good guy, all business, which suited Dean just fine, because his brother needed people who were competent and down to business, no bullshitting around.

"Dean, man. How's the leg?"

He grimaced at the memory of that fuckin' blaster almost taking away his leg.

"Doin' just fine, doc. But we're here for Sam."

It was small talk, while the two young doctors lifted Sam from his seat and carefully and slowly placed him on a hovering board.

There was even more small talk all the way to the med bay, but all he could do was grunt _yes_ and_ no_, because he was too busy keeping his eyes on Sam and his steps as quick as the hovering board. Those things had a mind of their own; minor injury and they would go slower than snails, but give 'em a major injury and they would go berserk.

The med bay was … white and clean and smelled of not really good things. He'd rather be smelling sulfur on Io, than this crap, but … it was for Sam.

Sam, who was lying dead still on the warm, soft and padded hovering board. So blue. Frozen. But still breathing. If he weren't, all the little white bracelets around his wrists would start screeching. But they were just beeping now.

There were words thrown left and right from him, but he didn't listen, it was all medical jargon anyways, one he knew nothing about, because while their father had taught them medicine – alternative and 'real' – he never taught them jargon. The words spoken by doctors to doctors. He always got lost there, but he did speak up when he saw them grip the hovering board by its sides and start pushing it to another door on the far wall of the bright, white, smelly med bay.

The door was black. Black door. He never saw those doors there before, and he had been coming here since he was six years old.

"Where we goin'?"

"Sam has ice inside of him. Ganymede's ice. He's gonna freeze from the inside out, if we won't get him somewhere where he can defreeze slowly."

"So…"

He knew that, damn it, what the fuck? He knew what was wrong with Sam and what needed to get done, because he goddamn saw what those fuckers did to him on Ganymede. They splashed him with Ganymede's ice water. They fuckin' threw ice water on his brother. He saw it happen, he saw Sam's eyes flash in terror and pain, heard his brother scream. He spend the entire ride from Ganymede to Luna listening to Sam's breathing get slower and slower, watched him get bluer and bluer, watched his fuckin' tears turn into ice on his cheeks. So yeah, he knew exactly what the hell was wrong with his brother.

"So … we're taking him to the warm-plasma chamber. He'll need to stay in there for a while, I can't say how long, we'll have to see how his system's gonna respond to the plasma and the warmth."

The door opened into blackness. It was pitch black behind the door and the hovering board took his brother right in.

"Dean?"

"What?"

He really did like Likoss, it would be a shame if he'd have to hurt the doc.

"Nothin', come on."

Yeah, that was what he thought. Stupid assholes, haven't they learned by now?

He closed his eyes and stepped into the dark. His father said once, while sipping hot beer on Nereid, to always close your eyes when you walk into darkness. Because, son, you really don't wanna see what's gonna eat you alive.

But there were no evil, human eating creatures hiding in this darkness. There was just a really low humming sound that he couldn't really hear all that well, but could just kinda feel it in his bones, it was like a really soft massage of sound. There were tiny, but bright, halogen lights lined up in a neat row on the walls all around the room – which was big, huge even and he couldn't really see the end of it, because there was a chamber blocking his view. The chamber; with the magical warm-plasma that would save his brother's life. It was lit up and he could see small bubbles rising up from the floor. It was more high than wide, but he could see just from first look, that it would fit his brother and leave him enough space to really be comfortable.

He looked on his right and saw computers lining the wall; red, green, and blue lights flashing on their keyboards, numbers counting something on their screens, he didn't know what really. There were some doctors there, sitting on chairs by the computers, but they were hidden in the glow of the lights and all he could see were their shadows. But it was comforting to know that Sam was gonna be monitored and treated properly.

Sam.

He stepped closer to his brother; his eyes were wide open – frozen open – staring up at the high ceiling and at the little lights there. Dean looked up too and it was like staring at space through the Impala's front window.

"Just like you're in space, huh, man?"

Sam's lips were dark blue, just like the doctor's, but they were twitching, like Sam was trying to say something, but his mouth just wasn't cooperating, but Dean knew exactly what his brother was trying to say.

_Dean._

It was_ Dean_.

"Yeah, man, 'm right here and not going anywhere."

He felt stupid and silly repeating that, because it was a rule, one Sam knew very well, but … the words just came out.

He stood by his brother's left side, giving the two young doctors the 'evil eye of doom' – Mr. Bobby's words, not his – while they worked on undressing Sam. It wasn't as if Sam wore all that much. Just a brown jacket that got thrown on a nearby chair, a red-white-blue long sleeved shirt that joined the jacket, and a black t-shirt, because all his white ones got colored on laundry day last Friday.

His boots, his socks – the last clean pair, because laundry day would be tomorrow – his jeans and his underwear.

"Whoah, well Sammy, I did _not_ want to see that."

There was no response from Sam; even his lips stopped their twitching. There was nothing but dead stillness and he would give anything to hear Sam chuckle and say 'shut up asshole'.

He wanted to touch Sam. He watched the doctors touching him so … so obviously his brother wouldn't shatter into a million pieces as if being made of glass, but he just couldn't do it. Because what if … what if he'd touch him with too much force? Be too rough, break his finger, break his hair off?

"'kay, gonna lower him into the chamber. Dean step back a bit."

Likoss' words cut him off from trying to see something on Sam's face, something other than the lifeless stare.

He knew Sam was in there, suffering like crazy, because he was feeling and seeing and hearing all that was going on around him, he was just … frozen. He couldn't move, couldn't speak and say what hurt, if anything hurt, he couldn't ask for food and water … he couldn't say stop.

There was no way, just no way, for Sam to say _stop, I need a breather_. _Please stop._

And that was what was tearing Dean apart. He was good at reading Sam, hell he practically raised the kid, he could decipher emotions from one look or one word Sam said, but this, here, now … there were no words, no expressions, there was blue, frozen skin on Sam's face and that was it.

"Sure, go ahead."

He knew Sam was panicking, because he would be panicking too, he just hoped that his brother wasn't panicking himself into a heart attack.

"'m not going anywhere, Sam!" he yelled at Sam's naked ass – well then, once you see one thing, there's no reason not to see it all – while he was being raised up in the air by two padded hooks that came up from the ceiling and hooked under Sam's armpits.

His brother was floating in the air for a while – or so it looked like – and then he was being lowered into the see through-plasma filled chamber.

It looked really kinda … scary. Was Sam gonna be able to breathe in there? Would it hurt?

He had no clue; he had never seen anything like this being done to anyone. If his father was still around, he'd ask him, but …

"How," he cleared his throat, "how does this work? Exactly?"

"There's really nothing to it. He will be in the plasma, he will breathe it in, it will umm, go into him, be around him, and it will warm him up. Outside and inside. It's basically like air, but more umm touchable. It won't hurt him, really, trust me -"

He never trusted anyone, unless they were family. Or had proven to him or his brother that they were worth his trust. Trust? In this day and age? In space? Trust was as expensive as oxygen.

"- but I don't know for how long he will have to be in there. Maybe a couple of hours, maybe days. Maybe weeks. I don't know. We are monitoring him; his heart, his breathing, his brain activity … 's why all those wires and stuff –"

Oh yeah, a doctor saying 'and stuff' always fills him with a lot of confidence.

"- and we will see how he will respond to all this."

"And if he won't respond?"

The doctor's eyes said it all.

"Well then, he's all settled. Want to go, get something to eat? You look … hungry. Coffee? There was a new shipment from Earth, very fresh."

Dean's eyes said it all.

"Uh, okay. You can stay, Dean, but…"

"Seriously? There's a but?"

"Uhh … no."

"Yeah, 's what I thought. Look, doc … Likoss … I will leave this," he gestured at the room with his hand, "with Sam walking right behind me, okay?"

"Uhh, yeah, Dean. I understand."

"Great."

He turned around, away from the man and looked at the chamber that held Sam. There were bubbles coming out of his nose – breathing – he was breathing. And the black wires attached to his head and chest made Sam look like a puppet on a string.

_Fuck, Sammy … _

It looked like Sam really was floating in that stuff. Totally weightless; going with the flow of the plasma, turning left and right, sideways. It was like watching a fish in a fish bowl. He should write that down, tell that to Sam when he'll be better.

"Just one more thing, Dean."

"What?" he snapped, he knew he snapped, but he didn't care, because he just wanted everyone gone and to be left alone with his brother. He and Sam and the rest of space can go fuck itself right now.

"When he will wake up, as in start talking and moving his muscles, just keep him calm. A lot of patients were disoriented and started choking before they realized that they could breathe just fine."

"Sure will."

"Great then, I'll leave you alone."

"Thanks, doc."

He was not above saying thank you. He never knew when he would need a doctor on his side.

"So, Sammy … 's just you and me now, buddy."

He put all of Sam's clothes that the doctors neatly folded on the only chair in the room, on the ground and pulled the chair closer to the glass wall of the chamber.

He would not leave Sam. He couldn't. Leaving him would physically hurt him and he knew, he'd never mend.

Sam was … staring right at him, through the plasma and the glass wall. It was eerie, but it was his brother, the same kid who stared at him when he drank that hot beer on Nereid, just like their father used to do. Sam never could get behind hot beer.

"'s just you and me and you better start entertaining me, little brother. And I don't mean with your junk."

He smirked, but the smirk died really fast, when there was no eye roll from his brother. When there was no life at all from Sam.

He left out a long, loud breath and got comfortable. It was a comfortable chair, but it wasn't his pilot chair. And Sam wasn't in the co-pilot chair on his right. He was right in front of him, floating in plasma, getting warm. Getting back to the living.

He closed his eyes. Just one second. He fell asleep listening to the _beepbeepbeep_ of Sam's heartbeat coming from the computers by the wall.

* * *

**TBC...**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I hope everyone who read this had a great time, because I sure did while writing this. Maybe I will come back and play in this 'verse some more, but by the lack of comments and stuff, I can see that there's no real interest in this, so .. idk what to do with that LOL. But I write for myself and not to get comments, so maybe I will write more in this 'verse. Because, well ... the possibilities are endless.  
**

* * *

He definitely slept more than just one second, because when he jerked himself back to consciousness, Sam was blinking.

Deities, Sam was blinking.

"Sam!"

He was up from the chair in a flash, colliding with the glass chamber so fast his palms stung, but Sam was blinking. Slow, dragged out blinks, but … he was moving.

"Sam?! You hear me?"

He hit the glass once with his palm, trying to get attention from his brother.

And then he smiled when Sam slowly extended his left arm and touched the glass wall from the inside.

"Yeah, man. 'm right here."

Their palms touched, but there was a barrier made of cool glass that Dean wanted to punch through and get to his brother and punch the lights out of the kid.

Stupid fucking asshole of a little brother scared him to death and got himself splashed with ice water. To save him. To save _him_. The water wasn't meant for Sam, it was meant for him and Sam - the moronic idiot that he is - got in the way.

"You're an idiot, you know that, right? Blink if you agree!"

It was a low shot, because blinking was all Sam was able to do right then. But it was still better than that entire nothing that he was doing before.

He really wanted to touch Sam – not just palm to palm through glass – but to knock him down to the ground with his fist, knock some sense in the idiot, make him bleed for the stupid, stupid shit he pulled on that moon, and just … clap him on the shoulder, because his brother was the one who pushed those creature traders into the ice water, making ice statues of them for all eternity.

"Sam…"

There was no response. He knew Sam could hear him, the doc said to keep him calm, so … the kid could hear him, but Sam probably just couldn't talk yet.

He tapped the glass three times, right over Sam's big palm, letting him know that he's right there and not going anywhere for as long as it would take.

He went back to the chair and pulled it even closer to the chamber, so that he could touch it if Sam would touch it.

They were all they had. Brothers. Until death.

-:-

The low, soft humming in the room was like a lullaby. He remembered their father singing lullabies to Sam, when his brother was still a baby. They were beautiful lullabies with lyrics of the stars and the endless waves among them, about light in the darkness. His father's singing voice was a lot to be desired, but it seemed that to Sam that didn't matter. All that mattered was that his father was holding him close and singing about an endless canvas of bright, sparkling lights.

He sighed.

His brother grew up so much since then. He was a man now, not a little boy anymore. But sometimes, he looked like that kid again, especially when he was hurt and hurting or when he was scared about something. Now, his brother didn't get scared of a lot of things, but sometimes they encountered evil, that made Sam's eyes widen in fear. It happened, but Dean never held it against his brother. Fear was normal, fear still made them … human. Once they wouldn't be scared anymore of anything, then they would probably become just as bad as the evil they were killing. They were killers; they both knew that, the difference was that they still experienced fear. They still knew compassion.

He leaned forward on the chair, rested his elbows on his thighs and washed his hands down his face. He was tired. So tired. But never of fighting. Because if they didn't fight, that could've been someone else's brother in there, sister, mother, father, child … they needed to fight. They had to fight, against the evil out there hiding in the darkness. Behind the stars. They had no other choice. It was in them. And what was in somebody, it couldn't be wiped away. It was endless, just like space.

There was a … thump. He raised his head and saw Sam's fist pound on the glass wall, his hand slowly sloshing through the plasma, making more bubbles rise up from the floor.

He was up on his feet, closer to Sam's line of sight and saw that Sam was gulping down the plasma, like he was choking in water.

"Sam! Stop!"

Sam stopped. It was an order, Dean knew, but he needed Sam's attention. Now.

"Listen to me, man. You can breathe just fine. Just calm down, close your damn mouth and breathe through your nose. Listen to me!"

There was a frown on Sam's face and if the kid could frown, then he would be just fine. Just fine.

"That's it, man. Just breathe. There ain't nothin' gonna choke you. Nothing. 's warming plasma, it's been heating you up, 'kay?"

Sam nodded, his hair flying freely in all that sludge. His eyes were wide open, but he closed his mouth and breathed through his nose.

"Can you talk?"

"Dean?"

Sam's voice was … like he was speaking via a broken radio a million miles away. But Dean understood just fine.

"You're gonna be just fine, you hear me? You've been in here for," he checked his watch, "nine hours, 'm gonna go get the doctor, alright? You stay right here."

He waited for the eye roll and Sam delivered.

He really missed his little brother, even if he had been there all along, but there was just something about Sam showing the world exactly what he thought about a situation, that Dean missed the most.

The eye rolls, the frowns, the 'bitch-face', the sighs, the smiles … he missed all of that and more.

"Hey, guys … 'm brother's awake." He told the doctors behind the computers and a guy came towards him. And older man, but age meant nothing here, because there were men and women who looked like they were eighty years old, but were really well over a hundred. It was always hard to tell.

"Yes, sir and he is doing fine."

Well, duh, he could see that by the way Sam was frowning and breathing and looking up at the top of the chamber, already making a strategy of how he was gonna escape out of there. He could see it in Sam's eyes that the kid was already mapping out his escape route.

"Sam, hey … don't you even think about it. There's no way out and you need to stay in there, you hear me? Dude?"

"I hear ya."

He turned to the doctor: "Did you call Likoss?"

"Can't find him, sir."

He sighed. Typical. The doctor was slippery like an eel, now you see him now you don't, but he'd find him. He couldn't have gone far.

"Okay, you keep an eye on Sam. If anything happens, I'll kill you."

The doctor's eyes widened and he licked his nose with a thin, long pointed tongue.

"Dean…"

He heard Sam whine his disapproval of the threat. Yup, Sam would be just fine.

He had no second thoughts about leaving Sam alone in that room, in that chamber, because he knew Sam would be just fine. Even stuck in there - and naked - he could still kill or maim anyone who would want to hurt him. As long as Sam was awake, there was nothing and no one that could hurt him, before Sam could hurt back.

Their father had taught them well.

-:-

Tracking down Likoss in the base that was as big as well, the Moon itself, was hard. The man wasn't in the med bay, he wasn't reachable by intercom, he wasn't in the mess hall, he wasn't in his room, he wasn't anywhere, fucking asshole.

But he was in the docking pier. On his ship. A good ship, class Ford, a bit too wild for Dean's taste – and way too red - but if the doctor needed more of an adrenaline rush than he got from being a doctor, well, who was he to judge, right?

Dean whistled when he came aboard: "Wow, man, ain't she a beauty!"

"Damn right, she is."

"So, Sam's awake. No one could find you, so one of those computer doctors is with him now."

"Okay, let's go see."

Likoss threw down the rag he was polishing the ship's main console with and walked away, leaving Dean to admire the shiny red console.

-:-

"Everything looks okay, vital signs are great, heartbeat is great too, brain …"

"… isn't damaged more than it already was, I can tell, doc."

"… ummm, yes. So Sam, how'd you feel?"

"Peachy, just get me out of here."

"See? He's being his bitchy self, he's a-okay doc, just get him out of there. 'm tired of looking at his junk."

Sam's hands immediately – it took ten seconds for them to move through the plasma – shot down to cover his crotch. His cheeks got a bit of color – red looked good on him, better than blue – and mumbled something about someone being an ass, but Dean chose to ignore it. He had enough of nakedness to last him a life time.

"Just get his sorry ass out of there, would you? We have places to see, places to be, smugglers to kill, and so on."

"Mmmm yeah, of course."

He was really started to enjoy making Likoss all flustered like that. The man really was down to business, take no hostages kinda guy and making him go all mumble-y was all kinds of cool.

"'kay, Sam, we're gonna get you out of there in a second. Gonna get the hooks under your arms, okay? And you're gonna be pretty cold once we get you out, but just bear with us for a few seconds and we'll get you back to warm in no time. Hear me?"

"I hear you."

"Okay, get him out."

When his brother emerged from the plasma chamber he looked like he just crawled out of a sick kid's nose. He was covered with colorless slime that dripped from his body down to the ground. It was not a pretty sight but it made Dean laugh out loud.

"Sam, man … you look like shit."

"Well I feel like snot, not shit so…"

Dean's laugh turned into a whispered question of: "Sammy?" when Sam's teeth started to clatter and he curled into a ball on the hovering board beneath a heating blanket.

"'m just cold."

The hovering board went one stage lower than berserk.

-:-

"Move, move, move!"

Likoss was yelling at all the folk that were walking down the hallway. The hover board was flying in the middle of the hallway, with Likoss and Dean barely keeping up.

"Where're we going?"

"Showers. We need to get the plasma off of your brother."

"I hate hover boards." He muttered and ran after it, because it was carrying his brother and if it would just dump him in front of a door, he'd break it and scatter its remains in space somewhere.

"Can't you slow it down?"

"You know they have a mind of their own and Sam needs to get that plasma off."

"Sam? Man, you good?"

"Just cold and kinda feel like puking. Can't this go any slower?"

"You know hover boards, Sammy … mind of their own and this one seems to like you."

Sam's groan was such a good sound to hear.

-:-

The hover board stopped by a door that led into _their_ room.

"Okay, just gonna open the door."

He punched three numbers and a letter on a small keyboard that was on the wall near the door handle and the door opened silently into a dim lit room. The air that hit Dean in the face was fresh, even if they hadn't been here for months, and warm.

"'kay doc, we'll take it from here."

"No problem."

They never let anyone in the room. Trust no one.

"Okay, boardy, I'll take it from here, okay. You did good."

He didn't know exactly if the hovering boards were like the Impala, if they could hear him and understand him or if they were just functioning by what they felt coming off of their patients.

The board didn't try to enter the room nor did it try to stop him when he helped Sam sit up and then step down from it.

"You good, man?"

His brother was leaning heavily on him and he had to grip him tighter around his waist and arm.

"Shower."

"On it."

The both half stumbled, half walked and kinda dragged their feet all the way to the shower stall in the way too brightly lit bathroom.

"'kay, man. Let go of your blanky and step in the stall."

He smirked when Sam bit back: "Screw you, 'm never saving your life again."

They both knew it was a lie, bigger than any other lie anyone has ever told in any time any place.

"Seriously, Sam, let's get that snot off of you."

When Sam let the blanket slip to the floor, Dean was just glad to see healthy pink of his brother's body. Not blue anymore. Or frozen.

"Come on…"

He guided Sam into the stall, because even if his brother was okay now, his legs were still shaky and he was trembling a little bit, his strength a bit on the weak side. But he did draw a line at holding Sam up.

"Sit down, okay? Don't want you to fall down and crack your skull."

"Just leave me 'lone, 'kay?"

"Sam, believe me, there's nothing I'd rather do right now than that, but … I seriously don't want to find you bleeding your brains out in the shower stall."

"Dean, Deities, just fuckin' leave me."

He understood that Sam was tired and cranky – getting frozen and then un-frozen in a room full of people does that to a guy – and wanted some time alone, to gather his thoughts, but he really didn't feel comfortable leaving him alone. He could see the way Sam's hands were shaking, how he shuddered from time to time - full body shudder - how he was barely keeping his arms from jerking too much. It was just a matter of time, before Sam would collapse on the floor.

"Sammy, come on. This isn't my idea of an awesome time either."

"Damn it…"

"Just sit down, idiot."

But his brother was a stubborn ass, who gritted his teeth, clenched his jaw, locked his knees together and pushed the red button for hot, and stood there. Unmoving, as if just one slight move would make him fall down like a house of cards.

"You are stubborn, aren't ya?"

"Guess who I got it from."

Sam turned away from him, showed him his back and Dean busied himself with getting a towel from underneath the sink. It was the only privacy they could give each other.

-:-

No matter how many times he had seen this and done it himself it was still so odd how there was nothing at all there, yet the plasma stuff – or dirt, or blood – just ran off of Sam's body like there was something there – water, air – something, but there really was nothing. Just a shower stall with its walls full of little holes shooting out pressure that made all the sludge run off of Sam in rivers. It was something someone needed to see and experience, it just couldn't be explained.

He missed the amazing feeling of water and he knew Sam did too. He did. But water was a rare commodity in the lunar system; the planets had plenty, but here … he it was a currency. Money stored in bottles, treasured and sought after like gold in Earth's gold rush period. Here, water was used as a way of payment for slaves, humans and human parts. And oxygen; a canister of oxygen cost one thousand bottles of _clean_ water. That was a lot and many couldn't afford it, so they lived off of stale oxygen, which messed with their brains and they developed diseases, spread them out throughout the system like wild fire spread through the dry woods of Earth. The Federation tried to help as best they could, but sometimes the help came too late or not at all, because traders caught the ships carrying help and raided them. It was a dangerous place to live, dangerous times … which was just one more reason for them to fight.

But, Deities, did he miss water. The clean water of Earth.

Earth. They went there sometimes, illegally of course, since they've both been exiled from the planet, banned to enter its ground, when Dean had been just five years old. But they still went there – just to enjoy real water, real food, real oxygen.

It was a place that was under both the United Moon's Federation and The Planet's Federation, protected by both so fiercely; sometimes Dean had to wonder why – what were they hiding there, because no other moon or planet was as protected as Earth. Sometimes when he and Sam were cooped up in the Impala for too long, longer than it was recommended to spend on a ship in space, they talked about it. Why both Federations protected Earth with so much force, so many ships and weapons? Water? Oxygen? Sure, could be, they were expensive, sought after, but they both suspected that it had to be something else, something more. Because other planets had water, had oxygen, had food, had humans, but they weren't kept _that _safe.

One day, one day they would find out. Even if it would mean their death.

But even with all that protection, thousands of ships in its orbit, all ready for battle with the most powerful weapons both Federations managed to make - they still had a way in. A way that was paved with bribery, boxes full of rare moon stones, water and other delicacies, sometimes even dead soldiers that were keeping the sky safe. Neither of them wanted to kill, but it was always about kill or be killed and that was alright.

And they always got there in the end.

Kansas … home.

"Gimme a towel, man."

"Uhh, yeah, here."

Sam didn't need a towel to dry off, because unlike the water drops that stayed on their bodies after bathing on Earth, here there was nothing. All dry and clean. After experiencing a shower on Earth, showering here on base was really anticlimactic. Boring, really.

He chuckled as he watched his brother wrap the towel around his waist.

"Dude by now I really saw it all."

"Shut up, Deities, just shut the hell up."

Red really was a better color on Sam's face than blue.

He followed Sam's huffs of annoyance out of the too brightly lit bathroom into their room.

Their room. They had a room on the base, one Mr. Bobby got for them from the men upstairs and it was … their room. They put in an extra bed, because no one here was allowed a roommate – unless one was a Winchester – destroyed at least twenty light bulbs, because a room should never be brighter than the sun, thus making the room dim and cozy. Just like the Impala was. Sam put in a bigger desk than it was in there before and put on some books, he collected on the moons (and sometimes even the planets), they put in some more chairs to put their clothes on. This wasn't home by any means, this was just a room they came to when they were either hurt or needed to go into hiding for a few weeks. Home was the Impala. She was their home, space was their home, Earth was their home.

"'kay, sit down."

He caught his brother with his pants literally around his ankles.

"Fine." Sam pulled his pajama pants further up his legs, tied the string around his waist and sat down on the chair with a huff.

"Don't roll your eyes at me, dude. Wasn't me that jumped in front of that water, asshole."

"It would have been you."

"I wanna punch your lights out right now, so badly, Sam, so just can it."

Sam looked down at his hands and shook his head: "Dean..."

It always caught Dean by surprise – even after all these years – how just one word, one gesture, one look from Sam could soften him up and not make him kill his brother anymore.

Little brothers – pain in the ass.

"Okay man, come on, wanna listen to your heart and see what's what. I can see that your brain is its weird self, but what about the rest of you?"

"Dean, 'm fine. The doctors said I was fine. And I feel fine too."

"Yeah well …"

… they didn't watch you turn bluer as the minutes ticked by, didn't watch you choke on your spit, didn't see your veins bulge out all over your body, didn't have to be there to see the terror in your eyes when the water hit you, didn't hear you scream, didn't hear your whimpers and moans and the pleading look in your eyes. The silent scream of _help_. They weren't scared for you, they weren't panicking over you if you were breathing or not and if your heart was still beating and if your brain wasn't freezing over and one wrong move and it would shatter into a million pieces. So, shut your mouth.

"… I just wanna check for myself, alright?"

Sam straightened up on the chair, puffed out his chest – so many scars there, faint sure, but Dean could see every one of them, remembered all of them being made – and started breathing as deep as he could.

He grabbed the amulet that hung around his neck – a weird little thing, with a human face and horns, but Sam gave it to him and that was all that mattered – and pulled it off.

"Here, put it near your heart."

Sam's hand was trembling when Dean dropped the skin-warm amulet into his brother's palm and watched him place it face down over his heart.

"'kay baby, you readin'?"

He waited a little bit; ignoring the bitchy look Sam was shooting him under his bangs and breathed out.

"All is normal."

The Impala was the only one he would really, really trust when she'd tell him that Sam was fine. She knew them both, knew what was normal for them – if doctors said their blood pressure was too high or too low, Dean would always double check with Impala and she'd tell him if it really was too high or too low, because she knew them. Knew their normal. Knew how they breathed, how their hearts beat, how their lungs sounded like and how their very brains worked.

She knew them, when there was no one out there who did. Not even Mr. Bobby.

"Thank you, sweetheart."

He grinned when he saw Sam trying not to sigh and roll his eyes, because his brother sometimes just didn't understand that their ship needed some love and tender care, or she'd leave their sorry asses stranded some day and in mortal danger while she'd be up in orbit laughing her engines off.

"Alrighty then, give it back."

He held out his hand and put the amulet back around his neck as soon as Sam dropped it into his open palm.

Real special, the amulet, Mr Bobby had said when he gave it to Sam. Their link to the Impala, they figured out a few years back when Dean's heart nearly gave up and tried to kill him, and they heard the Impala say 'Dean, your heart is beating too fast'. That both freaked them out and made them realize that, no matter where they were, alone or together, they in fact were never all alone.

He never took off the amulet and he would never ever leave it in this room. Sure they kept some things here, but not much, because even though their room was off limits and warded and protected, they could never be too careful. Space was cold and dark and sometimes it made people like that too.

"Satisfied?"

Sam never liked being cuddled or comforted – unless he was practically with one foot in the grave already - and that was just fine with Dean. He didn't like to cuddle or comfort, always made him feel weird and awkward especially when all that was directed towards his brother. It just felt … like they didn't need to do all that, because they lived by rules of their father and those rules were enough comfort. Or at least should be.

"Very satisfied. Now get some sleep, man. We leave for Deimos in the morning."

"Deimos?"

There was pain and horror in his brother's voice, but he pushed it aside and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yeah, we're meeting Mr. Bobby in the Voltaire crater. So … yeah …"

"Okay, uhh, okay, sure, yeah."

He knew why Sam was … scared of going to Deimos. It was the last place they saw their father.

* * *

**The End? Yes? No? **


End file.
